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Ferrell
stepped
closer
and
touched
my
head
,
right
at
the
hairline
.
A
sharp
pain
shot
across
my
scalp
.
His
sausage
-
like
fingers
pried
open
the
wound
.
Warm
blood
spurted
from
my
forehead
to
the
beat
of
an
unseen
rock
band
.
The
stream
ran
lazily
down
the
side
of
my
nose
,
touched
the
corner
of
my
mouth
,
then
hung
briefly
on
the
tip
of
my
chin
until
a
steady
drip
drip
drip
began
.
A
rose
of
fresh
blood
blossomed
on
the
concrete
.
The
sharp
smell
of
iron
filled
my
nostrils
.
Rachel
gasped
.
"
Hrmm
.
Nice
,
clean
entry
wound
.
What
’
d
you
hit
it
on
?
"
Rachel
stepped
in
.
"
My
cart
fell
over
.
I
’
m
sorry
.
"
"
Is
that
how
it
happened
?
"
"
Actually
,
I
’
m
the
one
who
ran
into
her
,
but
yeah
,
pretty
much
.
"
"
Right
.
Well
,
it
’
s
not
as
bad
as
it
looks
.
You
’
ll
be
fine
,
"
Ferrell
said
,
giving
the
back
of
my
head
a
playful
slap
.
A
spray
of
blood
flew
from
my
brow
,
staining
my
shirt
.
Leaving
me
where
I
was
,
he
walked
over
to
the
corner
of
the
barracks
and
shouted
,
loud
enough
to
scare
the
cicadas
off
the
walls
,
"
Yonabaru
!
Get
your
butt
out
here
!
"
"
There
some
soldierin
’
needs
doin
’
?
I
’
m
here
to
-
oh
.
Morning
,
Rachel
.
Sergeant
,
another
fine
day
in
the
corps
,
I
trust
?
So
fine
,
it
looks
like
the
concrete
up
and
sprouted
potatoes
.
"
"
Shut
your
piehole
and
get
some
men
out
here
to
pick
these
up
.
"
"
Who
,
me
?
"
